


phantom limb

by palmsxieri



Series: dream angst [2]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Demonic Possession, Hurt Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt No Comfort, Insanity, Like a lot of that, More tags to be added, Other, PERSONAS PEOPLE THIS ISNT RPF, also big sorry to fundy, also punz is a badass, ayup, but i made it pretty fucked up, dadza pog :D, fundywastaken supremacy bitch, george and sap dynamic duo, i mean dream rots in a prison what did you expect, i’m big sorry to punz in this one, one of these days i will organize my tags. until then, or should i say dreamons, punz and sam are an s tier duo but y’all aren’t ready for that conversation yet, ranboos personalities check, sapnap is a fire spirit, second chapter includes unhealthy coping! woo!, someone fuckin tell me why phil and techno isn’t a friendship tag because i am beyond annoyed, techno with long hair rights babey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:47:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 15,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28497798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palmsxieri/pseuds/palmsxieri
Summary: Dream dies.It isn’t abrupt. It isn’t painless.He’s been dead for a while; a nightmare instead sprung up from his place.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Luke | Punz, Clay | Dream & Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sam | Awesamdude, Clay | Dream/Floris | Fundy, Floris | Fundy & Luke | Punz, GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Luke | Punz & Sam | Awesamdude, Phil Watson & Technoblade - Relationship
Series: dream angst [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2087385
Comments: 100
Kudos: 792





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ello
> 
> please be wary, as there are themes that can be triggering in this. read the tags! 
> 
> credit to MadamTears for the possessed axe idea - go show them some love! 
> 
> also, this is a work of fiction based off of personas, not real people. 
> 
> this fic is based off of _phantom limb_ by alice in chains.

_ No hope of rescue _

_ I'm trapped here alone _

_ If I don't dig my own way out I'll die here _

Darkness. 

That’s pretty much all there was. 

Getting sent to his own prison really wasn’t a part of the plan, but once Punz had been incapacitated, there wasn’t much more he could do. He didn’t stand a chance against a nation, but he wasn’t going to go down without a fight. 

He didn’t expect Sam to flip flop between sides so easily. 

_ Gave my loyalty too soon _

_ Now the fork-tongued viper's bill is due _

(He slumped to the ground, broken and bleeding. He felt the tip of a trident against his neck and looked up to meet the cold stare from Sam’s eyes. 

“You too?” He rasped, the trident nicking his skin. 

“You’ve been doing this for too long, Dream,” Sam said sadly, quickly raising the trident and knocking him out with a hit to the head.

They didn’t see a flicker of purple in his eyes before he passed out.)

He  _ really _ didn’t expect to wake up inside his own inescapable prison, trapped with his axe, which was possessed. 

Of course, no one knew that besides himself. 

_ Weather is shifting _

_ So cold going numb _

_ Through a pinhole of light, I see vultures circling _

Hours turned into days. Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months. Or, at least he thinks that. He doesn’t actually know how long he’s been in the prison. 

He’s started to hear voices. Some whispers, some blood curdling screams that would leave his ears bleeding. He’s noticed that the axe will move on occasion, inching closer and closer. Sometimes it would float, only to fall back to the hard ground with a clang. 

It’s also freezing. There’s nothing there to keep him warm besides the tattered hoodie he’s had for as long as he can remember. 

There’s a singular crack on one of the walls. It’s thin, so he can’t see anything through it besides the occasional bird. He doesn’t remember, but he made it from his constant rapping of his knuckles along the wall.

He can’t remember the last time he ate. The prison had a food system, but he’d found a way around it to avoid eating whatever scraps it gave him. He couldn’t find it within himself to have an appetite. 

_ Bottom feeders pick my skin _

_ Weathered brain, a parasite within _

The cell smelled like rotting flesh. 

He hoped it wasn’t from his own body, but judging by the amount of insects he’d find, he wasn’t sure of it. 

He wasn’t sure of anything anymore. 

His limbs felt like jelly or felt rigid, there was no in between. His constant state of hunger was grounding, reminding himself he wasn’t dead yet. 

He couldn’t form coherent thoughts without triggering excruciating pain. 

Even then, there was always a dull ache in his skull. It started whenever the voices showed up. 

_ Ego pulverized _

_ No better medicine _

_ Angels have been advised _

_ Don't want no requiem _

The ache became more potent as time passed. His time in the corner of the cell increased exponentially. 

He can’t help but wonder how the fuck he got here. 

Dream, admin, feared god of the Dream SMP, belittled to nothing and thrown in a corner, left alone to his own filth. 

Where did he go wrong?

_ I'll just haunt you like a phantom limb _

The whispers were replaced with more screams, echoing and bouncing to the edges of his mind. 

_ I'll just haunt you like a phantom limb _

The screams sounded eerily like his friends and enemies alike.

_ Gonna wear you like a second skin _

The first time the voices spoke to him, he passed out. 

(“Let me in, Dream. All of your pain, all of your suffering, all gone. Let me in. I know you can hear me.” 

His head shot up in disbelief, gaze locking with his axe. It was hovering a few feet off the ground, glowing. 

“Just give me the okay, Dream. Say okay to your nightmares.” 

He pressed himself against the wall in fear, watching as the axe twitched. It flew towards him at an alarming speed, and everything went black.)

_ I'll haunt you like a phantom limb _

In his blacked-out state, he felt like he was being pushed out of his own body. He felt his grip on his mind slowly slipping away; he felt as though reality was being ripped from his fingertips. 

He pushed back. 

_ Every new second _

_ Getting harder to breathe _

_ No matter which side I end up on, this ain't over _

The darkness surrounding him began warping together. He couldn’t tell where the walls were anymore, where the floor was, where the ceiling was. He felt as if he was floating in the void, endlessly falling. 

The axe - no - Nightmare, kept talking to him, trying to let itself in his mind. It kept prying,  _ screaming _ , torturing him. It was breaking him, piece by piece. 

The screams of those close to him kept haunting his thoughts. Could he even consider calling them thoughts? 

He knew no day or night, no time for anything. All he felt was hunger. Need. 

_ My regrets are many, true _

_ Still so much worse lies ahead for you _

Nightmare showed him glimpses of what his friends were doing. They were all happy from what he was shown. They had thrown a Christmas festival, a New Years party. Nobody seemed to care that he was gone. 

They probably liked it better. 

_ Ego pulverized _

_ No better medicine _

_ Angels have been advised _

_ Don't want no requiem _

“Let me in, Dream,” Nightmare screeched, sending him reeling back against a wall. His hands went to his hair, trying to ease the stabbing pain in his head. “They don’t care about you. Think about who did this to you! Those people out there, who you put your heart and soul into protecting, the people you love? Your so-called friends, who shoved you into this godforsaken prison in the first place?” 

He stopped pulling at his hair, levelling his gaze toward the axe. It tilted, almost mockingly. 

“Think about it, Dream,” Nightmare said, almost soothingly. “What kind of friends almost kill you and then throw you in prison without a second thought?” 

He dropped his gaze to the ground, feeling wetness on his cheeks. Tears. His eyes once again met Nightmare. It tilted again, questioning.

_ I'll just haunt you like a phantom limb _

“Okay.” 

_ I'll just haunt you like a phantom limb _

The axe hurled toward him, embedding itself in his chest. He choked, eyes wide, blood spilling from his lips. He grabbed at the hilt, trying desperately to tear it out.

A black substance began leaking from the wound, staining his hoodie and pants. 

He shook with pain as the wound began to widen, the axe falling out with a wet pop. 

Fingers began to pry at the opening, tearing open his ribcage and muscle. He staggered back, trying hopelessly to breathe and keep himself alive. The hands in his chest successfully tore through, allowing a figure to force its way through him. It pulled itself from his body gracelessly, spilling black and blood everywhere. 

Dream collapsed, dead. 

Nightmare stood, alive.

_ Gonna wear you like a second skin _

Nightmare smiled, its purple eyes glowing dangerously. It placed a hand on the wall of the prison and closed its eyes in concentration. Starting at the center of its palm, the walls melted slowly, letting the outside light shine in. Alarms from the prison began blaring as it walked to the shore, axe over its shoulder. A laugh escaped its throat.

_ I'll haunt you like a phantom limb _

“Now. Where do I start?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ha
> 
> in case it was confusing: in this fic, dream struggles to figure out what is his mind and what is reality. that’s what’s going on when the walls start warping and stuff. 
> 
> feedback is appreciated :D


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L’Manberg looked beautiful at night, and he hated it. 
> 
> Its citizens all looked happy, and he _hated_ it. 
> 
> (or: sam and punz cope.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ello again
> 
> please enjoy this little sam and punz chapter, their thoughts on the time that dream spends in prison. 
> 
> tw - knives, some violence is depicted.

Sam spent countless hours wasting energy on scrubbing his trident clean. The weapon was shimmering, a striking blue, but he couldn’t get the sight of Dream’s blood out of his mind. 

Had he made the right decision? 

Next to him, Punz lay idly on the floor, tossing one of his knives up. Sam grabbed it mid-air by the hilt. 

“You’re going to hurt yourself,” he scolded, placing the blade down. Punz turned to glare at him, annoyed. 

His eye had healed, a jagged scar cutting across his face. The blue in them seemed much more dull now. 

“I’m not going to hurt myself,” Punz complained, reaching for the knife again. Sam pulled it out of reach. “If anything _ , you’re _ going to hurt yourself with that damn cleaner.” He tore the bottle from Sam’s hands and threw it to the other side of the room. Grabbing the knife, he threw it square in the center of the bottle, causing the liquid to spill on the floor. Sam sighed. 

“I’m not cleaning that,” he said, standing up on shaky legs and walking out of the room. 

As he walked to the door of his house, he rubbed his hands together. The callouses reminded him of countless hours he spent grinding tooth and nail to finish the prison. 

_ Pandora’s Vault,  _ he thought ruefully.  _ Fucking Pandora’s Vault _ . 

An envelope caught his attention, sealed with a wax stamp. He opened it, fingers tearing swiftly through the yellow paper. 

_ You’re courteously invited to L’Manberg’s New Years Eve celebration,  _ it read. He felt sick. 

“What’s that?” Punz said from behind him, wiping his hands on a rag. He tried not to stare at the faded blood stains on it. He handed over the paper. “A New Years party? Are you kidding?” 

Sam shook his head. “It’s addressed to the both of us.” 

Punz’s eyebrows raised. “Why in the world would they want  _ me _ there? They tried to kill me. And they almost succeeded, might I add.” The younger shivered, strands of hair falling into his face. 

Sam held back a flinch at the memory, carrying Punz to his house at an ungodly hour, desperately trying to stop the bleeding. Stitching him up with shaky hands, pouring healing potions down his throat. 

He shook his head again. “Are you going to go?” 

“Are  _ you _ ?” Punz retorted, narrowing his eyes. “It’s not a secret that you had a soft spot for Dream too. He’s like your little brother.” 

“If they want me there, I’ll go,” Sam muttered. “Not on good terms, though. There’s no way in hell I’m waltzing back there as if nothing happened.” 

Punz nodded. “I’ll go too, then.” At Sam’s shocked expression, he added, “They should take a good look at what they did to me. It’ll kick them right off of their high horse.”

The glint in Punz’s eyes makes Sam’s blood cool. He doesn’t like the uncontrollable rage that Punz has, but he understands it. 

He was almost killed, and he did have his brother thrown in a prison to rot. 

It made sense. 

***

Sam felt every muscle tense as he stepped through the community portal. He could feel the rage washing off of Punz’s figure, the latter clutching a dagger at his side. 

“Please, try to not take any lives tonight,” Sam whispered, a reminder to both his brother and himself. 

“Absolutely no promises,” Punz growled out, voice like steel. “If I see anything I don’t like, this knife is going in someone’s neck.” 

Sam sighed. 

He’d done a lot of that lately. 

Refocusing his vision on the path in front of him, he caught glance of Quackity. 

Quackity, whose eyes were filled with anger and hatred. 

Quackity, who was responsible for throwing Dream in his godforsaken prison.

_ Quackity _ , who had brought his axe down on Punz’s face. 

The man next to him shifted, white-knuckled grip on the knife twisting. He raised his arm and threw the knife, straight at Quackity’s head. 

Sam let out a shout, watching as it whizzed a hair passed Quackity’s face and embedded itself in a tree behind him. 

The two shifted their gaze toward Punz, who glared at them. He walked up to Quackity, placing his hands on both sides of his head. He leaned in, relishing in the way Quackity flinched backward. 

“The next one goes in your head,” Punz spat out malignly, tearing the knife out of the tree. He turned away with a huff, starting down the path to L’Manberg. 

Quackity gulped, watching as the man stalked his way down the path. Sam couldn’t find it within himself to feel pity. 

Eventually, he caught up to Punz, who had calmed down considerably, having put away the dagger. 

“How about we  _ don’t _ threaten anyone when we get there?” Sam muttered, giving Punz a pointed glare. 

Punz mumbled something under his breath, shaking his head. Whatever. 

***

L’Manberg looked beautiful at night, and he hated it. 

Its citizens all looked happy, and he  _ hated  _ it. 

He and Punz kept to their corner, only occasionally straying out when specifically asked to. A loud ringing snapped everyone out of their conversations. 

Sam looked up toward the podium, where Tubbo and Fundy stood. Tubbo tapped the microphone. 

“Hello everyone,” he started, a smile on his face. Sam scowled. “Thank you all for coming on this fine evening. Time is ticking, the new year will begin shortly. I wanted to take a few minutes to appreciate how wonderful these last few weeks have been.” 

Sam thanked the gods that the cups were plastic, because his would shatter from the sheer force he used to squeeze it. Punz straightened himself slowly next to him. 

“It’s been peaceful, with minimum conflict, apart from Tommy’s usual shenanigans,” Tubbo continued, drawing laughs out of the crowd. Out of the corner of his eye, Sam saw the dagger appear at Punz’s hip. 

“And, while there have been some  _ hiccups _ along the way,” a glare toward Punz cut its way through the crowd. He returned it with an icy stare. “We really can only thank one person for this new era of peace.” 

Sam rolled his eyes.  _ Peace my ass.  _

“Sam, can you please come up to the podium?” 

_ Oh. Oh fuck.  _

Punz moved to object, but Sam stopped him with a raise of a hand. He rolled out his shoulders and ignored the bottomless pit that had formed itself in his stomach, and walked to stand next to Tubbo. The eyes of the crowd bore holes in him. 

“Sam, without you, we wouldn’t be standing here today,” Tubbo started, and  _ okay, that’s a bit of a stretch.  _ “You built the prison with your own two hands, and you brought us justice with your trident. An act that cannot go ignored.” 

_ No, _ he wanted to say,  _ it can go very much ignored. I ignore it almost every day.  _

“I wanted to grant you with a medal of peace. Fundy, if you will.” Tubbo beckoned the fox over, receiving a gleaming medal with the L’Manberg flag on it. 

Sam was going to be sick. 

Tubbo turned to him with a wide smile. Sam hoped whatever facial expression he returned was appropriate. He dutifully bowed his head, shaking as Tubbo slipped the cold metal around his neck. The weight was crushing. 

As he straightened himself on shaking legs, he saw Punz’s irate stare. He returned it with his own plead, hoping that the man wouldn’t cause a scene. 

Tubbo gestured to him and the crowd applauded, echoing in Sam’s ears. The stars in the sky became extremely fuzzy as he stepped down from the podium. Everything was warping together as he collapsed in Punz’s arms. 

“Shit,” he heard Punz mutter, hoisting him up. He could hear the gasps of people around him, but he was so  _ tired. _

“Nope, not gonna do that right now,” Punz gritted out, shifting his weight. Fundy started to step down, but Punz shot him a look that stopped the fox in his tracks. He pulled an invisibility potion out of his inventory and splashed it on the two of them, sprinting out as fast as he could. 

***

By the time the potion ran out, the two had reached the shore by the mansion, overlooking the prison in the distance. He wasn’t sure how long they were on the move, but the sun was rising, which told him enough. 

He gently lowered Sam onto the ground before flopping to the sand himself, squinting in the sun’s rays.

He closed his eyes until he heard a grunt next to him. 

“You alright?” Punz asked quietly, sitting the man up. He looked like shit, to say the least, covered in sweat and sand. 

“Fuck,” Sam answered, with feeling. He put a hand around his neck, and upon feeling the medal still there, jumped up unsteadily. 

Punz shot out a hand to steady him, but the man was on a mission. 

Sam stormed to the shoreline, ripping the medal off. He ignored the stinging feeling it left on his neck, and chucked it as far as possible, breathing heavily. 

Punz winced. 

He opened his mouth to say something, but the sharp alarms of the prison cut him off. 

Sam whipped around, staring at the walls of the prison. 

“What the fuck is going on?” He yelled over the alarms. Punz stared to his left, jaw agape. 

He turned to meet the other’s gaze. 

He was greeted with the sight of his walls melting off. 

“What the…” he started, but trailed off once he met the gaze of a man clad in all black, wielding a netherite axe. 

His gaze shifted to Punz, who looked just as shocked as he did. The dagger was back at his hip.

“Who the hell is that?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how are we feeling?
> 
> might fuck around and write a flashback to the actual fight, who knows. 
> 
> feedback is appreciated :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _”...stay with me Punz, keep your eyes open, come on,” someone pleaded, but he was in too much pain to think. He was too tired._
> 
> _He welcomed darkness with open arms, ignoring the desperate screams that plagued his clouded mind._
> 
> (or: punz is broken during the battle.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ello again again
> 
> i have more pain on a plate for you. 
> 
> tw - graphic descriptions of violence and injury! please don’t read if that is a sensitive topic for you.

_ Flashes of pain and terror swooped their way through him, a multitude of colors splattering the sky. The world is sideways and his cheek is warm. He doesn’t notice that it’s got a gaping wound, spilling out red onto the cold ground. He knows someone’s standing over him. He can’t  _ see _ them, per say, but he knows they’re there; he can feel a shadow descending on him. His head is pounding with the force of hitting the ground but also the sheer  _ noise _ that surrounds him.  _

_ Out of the corner of his eye - the good one, might he add - he spotted Dream, bloodied and broken, at the mercy of Sam’s trident. His hands twitch with effort but he can’t move, forced to watch as Sam brings the trident down with force.  _

_ How did he even get in this situation?  _

_ (The two had been walking together down the path, merely laughing and enjoying their time. He’d found some enchanted books on an exploration earlier, and was flipping through the pages, trying to pronounce the ridiculously difficult words on the inside. Dream laughed his heart out at the butchered pronunciations, doubling over and clutching his stomach.  _

_ The laughter was cut short with a pained grunt, and he looked to his side to see an arrow sticking out of Dream’s shoulder.  _

_ The book long forgotten, he swiveled on his heels, signature dagger in hand, to meet the gaze of L’Manbergians and those who took refuge with the Arctic Empire. Technoblade held a crossbow, aimed at Dream. Next to him, Tommy lowered his bow, staring at the man clad in green.  _

_ “What is this,” He demanded, glaring at the group of people. “Some sort of ambush? For what?”  _

_ Tubbo stepped forward, aiming to look fearless, but he saw right through the childish confidence. The boy was absolutely terrified. _

_ “It’s time for this reign of terror to end,” Tubbo started, drawing his own sword. He directed his attention to the admin. “Dream, we’re sick of your tyranny, of your rule, of your  _ bullshit _.”  _

_ Murmurs of agreement arose from the array of people. He scanned his eyes over them. Tubbo, Tommy, and Techno all looked pissed, ready to snap. Ranboo seemed incredibly torn, clutching his book in his hands. Quackity’s gaze passed over him in pure anger. Phil did not carry a weapon, although his face was hard to read. Fundy looked terrified. Ghostbur floated in the far back, worry creased across his face.  _

_ Next to him, Dream pulled the arrow out of his shoulder with force. He gritted his teeth.  _

_ “Bring it.”) _

_ *** _

_ He vaguely picked up on the feeling of someone hoisting him in their arms, franticly pressing cloth to his face and torso. His vision was spotty, but he caught a flash of green hair.  _

_ The world around him spun, leaving him nauseous and with a headache that could kill. The sounds morphed together like a terrible blender mistake.  _

_ “...stay with me Punz, keep your eyes open, come on,” someone pleaded, but he was in too much pain to think. He was too tired.  _

_ He welcomed darkness with open arms, ignoring the desperate screams that plagued his clouded mind.  _

_ *** _

_ (He fought tooth and nail, shield creaking upon impact from attacks at all sides. Tubbo tried a quick jab to his stomach but he twisted away, instead using the leverage to knock the boy on his feet. To his left, Fundy hesitated on his counterstrike, allowing him to knock the fox back with a strong swing of his axe. Quackity’s sword sliced through his shoulder, sending him forward with a wince of pain. He charged back twice as hard, running on adrenaline. The latter stumbled back, holding his shield up to try and block the attacks.  _

_ A few feet next to him, he saw Dream knocked off his feet, at the mercy of Techno and Tommy. Tommy’s blade was raised, ready to strike.  _

_ “Dream!” He shouted desperately, quickly dropping his shield and firing an arrow at Tommy. It hit its mark, causing Tommy to drop the sword in pain. He clutched at the arrow embedded in his side, staring bullets into Punz’s head.  _

_ “Look out!” Dream shouted back, blocking a swing from Techno.  _

_ He turned around and was met with Tubbo’s gaze, and a white hot pain tore its way through his stomach. Someone behind him screamed and he looked down in shock, seeing the boy’s blade sticking through his torso. He looked back up into Tubbo’s eyes, which were filled with shock and terror.  _

_ Dream grunted in pain, desperately trying to get up and help his friend, but Techno kept him still with a blade at his neck.  _

_ In the background, something neither of them could see, Quackity stood up with hatred in his eyes. He stalked toward Punz, axe in a grip that made his knuckles white. “I’ve waited a long fucking time for this.”  _

_ “Quackity, wait!” Fundy screamed, but to no avail.  _

_ The man had his eyes set on Punz, and brought his axe down with a sickening crunch. Tubbo let out a wail, pulling out his sword and stumbling back. Everyone started shouting, Dream the loudest.  _

_ However, a loud clap of thunder and flash of green stole their attention.) _

_ *** _

_ He spent the next segment of time in and out of consciousness.  _

_ The first few times were the worst. He could feel his body draining, could feel himself slipping further and further into darkness. He couldn’t make out any feeling other than pain, like a fire spreading across his body.  _

_ As it progressed, the pain stayed but he could feel his body slowly stray from the darkness. He felt pinpricks at the area where the pain was the worst, gentle hands trying desperately to sew him back together.  _

_ He felt gentle hands around his throat, coaxing a sweet liquid down. He didn’t know what it was or who was doing it. But, he felt his wounds slowly pulling themselves together. He found his breathing slowly even out, and the pain began to ease away.  _

_ The final time he woke up, his head was full of cotton, mouth incredibly dry. He opened it to try and say something, but a pathetic wheeze came out instead. He found that the motion tugged uncomfortably at the skin on his face. Someone next to him gasped and held a cup to his lips. He sipped slowly, sighing as the water cooled his throat. He opened his eyes, wincing against the bright light. Once he was able to focus, though, immediately he noticed something wasn’t right.  _

_ “Where - where am I?” He rasped out, voice like gravel from disuse. He tried to raise a hand to his face, but the movement caused him to whimper in pain.  _

_ “Hey, hey,” the person said, gently ghosting fingers at his side. “Please, I just got you put back together. Try not to move too much.”  _

_ Once his vision could focus, he saw Sam’s concerned face hovering over him.  _

_ “Sam, what’s going on?” He asked, voice cracking with fear. “Why’s my eyesight all fucked up?”  _

_ Sam visibly winced, not meeting his gaze. He reached under the man to help him sit up, careful to avoid the stitches on his stomach.  _

_ “It’s better if I just show you,” Sam said softly, flinching when he gasped in pain.  _

_ He watched as Sam grabbed a mirror and handed it to him, eyes teary.  _

_ When he turned the mirror around and looked at himself, his thoughts flew away instantly.  _

_ There was a long, nasty scar spanning from his forehead to the right side of his jawline, cutting clean through the middle of one of his eyes. He blinked rapidly, trying to make the white line that cut his iris in half disappear. It stayed, no matter how hard he tried.  _

_ Sam gently pried the mirror from his hands, pulling him into a hug.  _

_ “I’m so, so sorry Punz,” he whispered, carding a hand through the younger’s hair.  _

_ Punz let his eyes fall shut, leaning into the embrace.  _

_ He let out a wrangled sob.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did i throw an axe into punz’s face? yes, yes i did. 
> 
> also holy- i didn’t expect people to read this at all. thank you so much for the feedback! it is always appreciated :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmare is free. 
> 
> (Fundy is scared.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! 
> 
> there are some triggers - violence, blood, and something similar to a panic attack. please be wary of that.

Nightmare took a savory breath of air, relishing in the way that their now human lungs expanded in their chest. The shoreline was a swirl of brilliant blues, and if it weren’t for the fumes of burning blackstone, it would almost be beautiful. 

The fumes travelled, making it difficult to see past where liquid met land. The alarms rang in their head, bringing an odd sense of comfort.  _ Odd, _ they thought,  _ must be a human thing.  _

Nightmare shrugged it off and trudged to the shoreline, stopping short when the outline of two figures appeared in their view. 

They smiled, bringing a clawed hand to their mask. 

“Who the hell is that?” one of them said to the other. 

They took in the appearance of the two men - one was incredibly tall with bright green hair, and clutched a trident. The other was riddled with scars - some similar to Dream’s, Nightmare noticed. His hair was shaggy and blonde, a sharp contrast to the man who might as well have been a highlighter. 

“Gentlemen,” they spoke, peeling the mask off of their face. “I don’t believe we’ve met.” 

“Dream?” The blonde one muttered, stepping a bit closer. Nightmare cackled, the sound frequency tearing through the air. The two covered their ears, hunching over on themselves. 

“What the hell,” the man in green whispered, hands falling from his ears, dripping with blood. “Who are you?” 

Nightmare studied the two, calculating. They quickly darted forward, knocking the two off their feet with ease with practiced force - Dream’s fighting skill came in handy. The men groaned upon impact, unable to move. 

“I have a better question for you,” Nightmare retorted with a sharp-toothed grin. “You should be asking  _ what _ am I. But, that’d take the fun out of it. You can figure it out for yourselves.” 

The blonde man shot up and put a knife through their torso, making them screech. Blood steadily flowed from his ears, staining the sand beneath them. Nightmare grabbed the knife in disgust and tore it out, throwing it to the side. They grabbed the blonde by the chin and locked eyes. 

“I’d think twice about trying that again,” they hissed, purple eyes glowing. They dug their claws in the man’s neck, relishing in the pained whimpers they received.  _ Punz, _ something whispered in their mind.  _ Punz and Sam.  _ “Sweet nightmares, my dear Punz.” 

With agility, they brought their fist down, knocking Punz to the ground. His body flopped, motionless. Next to him, Sam struggled, trying desperately to inch himself away. 

“What do you want,” Sam muttered, eyes filled with fear. Nightmare stalked closer, inching their mask to his face. He flinched away, reaching for anything next to him in the sand. “Where is Dream.” 

Nightmare rolled their eyes, bringing the hilt of their axe down on Sam’s head. The man in green fell gracelessly, a small trickle of blood working its way to the sand. 

“Fear not, Sam,” they whispered, leaning in close. 

Nightmare smiled, pushing the mask on top of their head. 

“Dream is dead.” 

***

They had been walking along a wooden path for quite some time when they were met with a glittering sky filled with balloons and stars. The city on stilts stood tall above a crater with water, a sign of mass destruction, or maybe a memorial. They weren’t sure. 

The path led to a town square of sorts, little markets and seating areas scattered around. Snow lightly dusted their shoulders and the ground. The houses, although unoccupied, were decorated with streamers and lights, illuminating the area around them. 

A cracked wall caught their eye, seemingly out of place. It crumbled as they walked toward it, and they could just make out scribbles on the walls, messy and broken. 

_ (“My unfinished symphony, Dream. Let me be your vassal.”)  _

_ L’Manberg,  _ their mind supplied helpfully. They were in L’Manberg. 

The room itself left them feeling unsatisfied and jumpy. Something about the way the words were written, the way they were placed - it made them feel  _ wrong _ . 

Perhaps it was just sympathy for whoever was in the room. Or maybe it reminded them of something. 

Nightmare didn’t understand feelings. They weren’t used to the drop in their stomach, or the gut-wrenching  _ something _ that they felt when they looked at the crater. 

It was something to be dealt with later, they decided, and promptly left the room. 

***

A certain little fox boy caught their attention. 

***

_ Fundy watched in fear as Punz splashed himself and Sam with invisibility, causing the citizens of L’Manberg to panic.  _

_ Tubbo was desperately trying to keep everyone under control, while Quackity shouted at him to follow the particles. Against his better judgement, he obeyed, breaking into a sprint down the path.  _

_ Quackity followed, sword in hand. “Those fuckers aren’t getting away that easily.”  _

_ “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Fundy asked meekly, stopping. The footsteps were softer, but he could tell where they were going. “They haven’t done anything.”  _

_ Quackity whirled on him, pointing the blade at Fundy’s throat. The fox’s breath hitched.  _

_ “Watch yourself, Fundy,” the man spat out, putting pressure on the blade. A trail of blood fell from Fundy’s neck. “We’re not friends. I won’t hesitate to put this blade in your heart.”  _

_ His eyes widened in fear. He watched as Quackity sheathed the blade again and started back down the path.  _

_ Once he was out of sight, Fundy collapsed in a nearby bush, shaking. He scooted back until branches poked at him, and wrapped his arms around himself. Tears fell to the ground as he sobbed quietly. The night grew cold and he took comfort in the bush over his head, and drifted to a fitful sleep. _

***

Fundy’s eyes shot open. 

The bush shifted as he did the same, wincing as branches scraped his skin. 

Someone placed their hand on his shoulder, making him jump. His gaze was met with someone wearing a black mask. They were clad in black and held a netherite axe in one hand. They looked suspiciously like - 

“Dream?” 

The person in question removed their mask and looked at Fundy with purple eyes. Their hand retracted from his shoulder. 

Fundy covered his ears in pain as the person laughed, falling closer to the ground. His hands came away red, shaking. He looked back up to their purple eyes, tears falling silently. 

Their eyes started glowing, and everything went dark. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heh. sorry fundy. 
> 
> also, i know that wasn’t wilbur’s exact line, let me live a little. 
> 
> my updating schedule is going to absolutely suck because of classes, sorry about that. 
> 
> feedback is appreciated :D


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Punz has a nightmare. 
> 
> _(is it really a nightmare?)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! 
> 
> pain. 
> 
> tw: slight dissociation (i think, please correct me if i’m wrong), and some violence.

_ He couldn’t breathe.  _

_ He couldn’t see, either. Everything was dark and he felt like his body was floating. Almost like he was in the void.  _

_ Random sounds echoed in his ears and rattled around his skull.  _

_ He tried to push his hands through his hair to give his head some relief, but he found that moving was impossible. Something rubbed against his wrists as he tried to free himself.  _ Rope. 

_ The atmosphere around him cleared up, and he found himself dangling dangerously on a dock. In front of him stood Dream and Sam.  _

_ Something wasn’t right.  _

_ Dream held a cinderblock in one arm. His chest was gaping, ribs broken and organs removed. The cavity bled slowly.  _

_ Sam held his trident, stained red with  _ someone’s  _ blood.  _

_ The two stepped toward him slowly, moving in perfect unity. _

_ He watched in fear as Dream tied the cinderblock to his torso, the weight pulling him forward. He watched as Sam secured the knots with some sort of enchantment he didn’t recognize. He watched as their soulless eyes pierced holes through his body, unforgiving as they held him over the water; his hair flopped gracelessly when Dream shook him a little.  _

_ Sam smiled next to him, a black substance covering his teeth. The laugh he let out sent shivers down his spine.  _

_ “Any last words, Punz?” Dream cackled, black dribbling down his chin. It dripped onto the hard ground, staining what once was a vibrant green hoodie.  _

_ He opened his mouth and felt as if something was being forced up his throat. He tried to cough and could only watch in horror as the same black liquid spilled from his mouth, coating his throat and the front of his body.  _

_ “He’s not talking to us,” Sam pouted, turning to Dream. He grabbed Punz by the chin, grip enough to break skin. “Talk to us, Punzie. You’re not afraid, are you?”  _

_ He stared into lifeless green eyes, wanting nothing more than to claw at his throat and vomit the black out.  _

_ “Maybe he needs some motivation,” Dream responded, voice low. He pulled out a dagger and shoved it in Punz’s sternum, making the other let out a choked scream. The black spilled quicker, slapping against the ground.  _

_ He tried desperately to wriggle out of the restraints as he choked consistently, forced to endure Dream’s dagger. The next stab was near his heart, not deep enough to kill, but to inflict pain. The man brought the last one down on his ribs and curved it down, dragging it just above the cinder block. He screamed in agony as it curved up again, before it was removed with a sickening pop.  _

_ “Aww, Dream,” Sam cooed, “It looks just like you.”  _

_ Dream smiled, looking back at Punz.  _

_ “Still don’t want to talk, do you.”  _

_ He swayed on his feet, vision spotty. Dream grabbed the rope just before he could fall into the ocean, leaning close. He flinched as the black dripped onto his chin.  _

_ “Don’t worry Punz. You’ll talk to us soon enough.”  _

_ He could only keep himself awake as Dream dropped the rope, sending him plummeting into the dark water.  _

_ Once he sunk below the surface, he was overcome with a deadly calm. He could no longer see Dream and Sam staring at him, only the clear blue of the water. The silence was deafening. The corners of his vision began to fade.  _

_ A fish swam above him, its scales glinting in the soft light from the surface.  _

_ His chest felt as it was exploding. His lungs screamed at him to try and break the rope, to do something,  _ anything,  _ to get air. Something pounded in the center of his chest multiple times. He couldn’t see anything anymore. The salt stung his skin as he reached the bottom of the water.  _

_ There was an odd ringing in his ears.  _

_ Someone was shouting at him. The pounding on his chest became more erratic. _

_ “Punz! Punz please!” _

His eyes shot open, lungs on fire. Sam crouched over him, two hands clasped and on top of his chest. There was no air flowing to his lungs. 

He rolled over and opened his mouth, water spilling out. His body shook as he coughed out rough, black saltwater. 

_ Wait.  _

He flinched when Sam reached a hand out, scrambling back on the sand, hands desperately trying to grab something for leverage. The pain on the front of his body was excruciating, the skin tugging with every move. Sam stepped back, giving him his space, face scrunched in concern.

His front burned as he peeled off the hoodie, throwing it in disgust. 

His ears rang as Sam gasped and dropped the discarded hoodie. 

There were fresh pink scars on his chest, painting a daunting smiley face. 

***

_ Drip.  _

_ Drip.  _

_ Drip.  _

***

_ Drip.  _

_ Drip.  _

_ Drip.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... :D
> 
> feedback is appreciated.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fundy has a nightmare. 
> 
> _(is it a nightmare?)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pain. 
> 
> tw: graphic violence, bugs, and slight claustrophobia

_ The ground below him jutted out raggedly, scraping his palms as he tried to push himself upright. He winced as his cheek caught a sharp edge, small droplets of blood falling onto the dark floor. The purple and black stone dug into flesh as he finally, finally was able to sit straight, eyes scrunched as he tried to peer into the darkness. The room smelled like a failed hunt left to rot in the sun. Cockroaches scuttled across the ground, making him shiver.  _

_ The sound of something dripping chorused through his head, leaving it pounding. He dragged his knees to his chest, ignoring the obvious scrapes the obsidian left in favor of curling up in a ball. The walls shifted closer to him, making him flinch.  _

_ He shivered as the drips grew louder. The splashes echoed and he could hear the legs of the insects.  _

_ “Ironic isn’t it?” a voice spoke up, and Fundy screamed. _

_ He squirmed backward, hitting a wall. He looked up and was face to face with Wilbur.  _

_ Well, what was left of him.  _

_ His skin sagged from his bones and his ribs were caved in, leaving his body in a frail state. There were deep crevices in his collarbones and dark bags under his eyes. His once bright yellow hoodie was now a dull grey, tattered and worn. The holes revealed a stab wound where his heart would be; instead, an empty cavity tore its way through his body. Small white bugs made their way around the wound, settling in the rotting flesh. Wilbur smiled.  _

_ “Our downfall was quite literally what we fought so hard to protect.”  _

_ Wilbur shifted, staring at the fox with dull eyes. A clear gloss lined them.  _

_ “Wh- what?” Fundy whispered, pushing himself against the wall in fear. The sharp rock tore his shoulders. _

_ “Think about it, Fundy,” Wilbur cackled, sending shivers down his spine. He crouched in front of the fox.. “We built L’Manberg and they tore down the walls. Dream put up new ones, and we blew it up. The very thing we fought incredibly hard for was our great demise.”  _

_ Fundy watched as the man twitched, insects scuttling away with the movement.  _

_ A single tear made its way down Wilbur’s face, leaving a trail of pale skin behind.  _

_ “What if it’s the way you die as well, Fundy?”  _

_ Wilbur’s arm shot forward and grabbed his shirt, pushing him against the wall. The jagged edges dug in his back and he winced. The hand pushed its way to Fundy’s chest and he gasped in pain as it broke skin, pushing further and further in. He screamed as Wilbur forced apart his ribs, breaking the bone with ease that could only be described as inhuman. Blood poured from the wound and stained the ground.  _

_ “I am a long, slow-burning fuse, Fundy,” Wilbur shouted, gripping Fundy’s chin with his free hands. “I meant it when I said it was never meant to be.”  _

_ He felt cold, clammy hands wrap around his heart.  _

_ Wilbur yanked his hand out of his chest with a sickening squelch. Blood welled in the fox’s mouth as he watched his heart pulsate in Wilbur’s hand. Small trickles of blood dripped to the floor. The man in front of him gripped the organ with force. Blood dribbled down his chin and settled on his shirt, soaking the fabric.  _

_ “Do you see the beauty of it, Fundy?” Wilbur asked, dropping his heart. It still had a pulse, even on the ground. “The absolute destruction. The inevitability. In the end, it wasn’t me who killed you, or that Dream look-alike. It was your own nation. The place where I conceived a godforsaken child like you.”  _

_ Beneath the searing pain, he felt a twinge of sadness at the man’s words.  _

_ “I pity you, Fundy, I really do,” Wilbur confessed, releasing his iron grip. He instead gently ran his hands through soft brown hair, untangling the knots in it.  _

_ Ignoring the screams of protest from his body and mind, Fundy leaned into the touch. Wilbur smiled softly.  _

_ He choked on the blood spilling from his mouth. Wilbur’s expression turned sour and his grip tightened, yanking Fundy upright.  _

_ “You’re pathetic,” Wilbur growled out. He slammed Fundy’s head into the ground.  _

_ White noise filled his ears as he struggled to open his eyes, searching for comfort from the father figure he never had. Blood from his temple trickled into his eyes, blurring his vision. He rolled over, coming face to face with his heart.  _

_ It stopped beating.  _

***

_ Drip. _

_ Drip. _

_ Drip. _

***

Fundy woke up with a start, wiping water off of his face. 

He was surrounded by four obsidian walls. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so... how are we feeling
> 
> feedback is appreciated :D


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam asks for help. 
> 
> _(Who are these people? Why is it so cold here? Where am I?)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> actual chapter pog-
> 
> tw: panicking, slight derealization (i think, please correct me if i’m wrong!), scars

“No, no, this isn’t fucking happening.” 

Sam’s heart ached as he watched Punz pace in front of him, hands tangled desperately in his hair. 

“This isn’t happening,” Punz repeated, breathing in harshly. He let go of his hair and curled his arms around his body. “This isn’t fucking happening. This isn’t real. You’re not real.” 

“Punz,” Sam said gently, taking a tentative step forward. When Punz didn’t move, he got closer. “This is real. I’m here, okay? You’re here right now, we’re on the shoreline.” 

He gathered the blonde in a tight embrace, gut wrenching when the younger subconsciously curled into his arms. He held Punz through the tremors that shook his body. “I’m here Punz, I promise. Feel the sand under your feet? The texture of my hoodie?” 

He held his breath until Punz nodded. The shakes gradually lessened until the man had passed out in his arms. He sighed. 

He ran a hand through Punz’s hair, untangling the knots. His skin was cold and damp, hands wrinkled and knuckles white. Sam stared brokenly at the fresh scars on his front. A reminder of whatever had happened to Punz in his nightmare-like state. 

Grabbing his communicator gently to not rouse the sleeping man, he typed out a message. 

**_< awesamdude>: i need your help. _ **

***

He watched the snow fall gently through the window over the brim of a dark blue mug, steam clouding his glasses. A few strands of pink hair fell out of his loose braid. The window fogged over with condensation. 

The tea was warm as he took a sip, closing his eyes. He savored the way it warmed the coldness that was his being. 

A small rabbit trudged in the snow outside, and he snorted. It scurried after its mother, tripping over paws too big for its own body. His bees buzzed from their place in his house, content. It was peaceful. 

The door slammed open, letting a bone-chilling gust of wind in the house. So much for quiet.

Phil stumbled his way into the house, breathless. He clutched his communicator in one hand, and a tattered book in the other. Techno placed his mug gently on the windowsill and crossed his legs. He raised an eyebrow in question. 

“Dream,” Phil huffed out in between heavy breaths, gaining the pinkette’s attention. He sat straight and beckoned the older over. 

“What’s wrong,” Techno grumbled, grabbing the communicator off the table. Upon seeing Sam’s message, his stomach dropped. “Sam doesn’t ever ask for help. Do you know what’s going on?” 

Phil shook his head, sitting down heavily in a wooden chair beside him. “It could be a number of things.” 

Techno let his head fall into his hands. He was supposed to be  _ retired,  _ fuck’s sake. He rubbed small circles across his temples, trying to ease the oncoming headache in the back of his skull. Phil rested a hand on his shoulder and it felt like a brand. He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “This could be a number of things, Phil. Something’s always going on with Dream.” 

“I don’t think it’s random,” Phil sighed, removing his hand. Techno deflated in relief. He folded the glasses and set them down gently. “It can’t be a coincidence that Sam and Punz have gone missing since the festival.” 

“The festival where I was supposed to be executed with him?” He spat out, the words bitter in his mouth. Phil winced. “Sorry.” 

It was dismissed with a wave of the older’s hand. His wings twitched a little. “I spoke to Tubbo,” Phil started, and Techno bristled. His red eyes narrowed in disapproval. “Before you say anything, it was over comms. I didn’t go to Snowchester.” 

He hummed, face scrunched in a frown. His hands went to fiddle with the end of his braid. 

“He said that Sam and Punz were there,” Phil continued. “That he gave Sam a medal for locking Dream in the prison, and that Punz looks like absolute hell. And apparently Sam fainted. No one’s seen them since.” 

“That’s not like Punz,” Techno mumbled, and while he didn’t know the man well, he knew enough to know that something was up. He wasn’t the type to disappear unless he was hurt or someone close to him was in danger. “And I don’t think you’d be Sam’s first choice for help, all things considered.” 

Phil scoffed. “I’m perfectly helpful, thank you very much.” 

Techno raised an eyebrow at that, squinting. 

The snow had stopped, warm tea long since cooled. The rabbits ran to find shelter from the cold, startling his horse from its stable. He took in a deep breath and sighed slowly. 

“What do we do, Phil?” He wondered aloud, standing up and taking a few steps around the small room. The dark walls seemed a lot closer than before. “We step foot in the greater SMP and we’ve got a constant target on our backs. We were next to go in that prison. And if Punz is as bad as you say he is, then we have a lot to worry about.” 

Phil nodded, placing his chin on his hand. He rapped his knuckles on the table a few times. Techno glared at him. 

His thoughts fizzed from his brain as desperate pounding on his door grasped their attention. The two shared a glance, red eyes meeting green. 

The pounding continued as Phil rushed to open the door, coming face to face with Sam, who was shivering and soaking wet. 

“P- please…” Sam whispered, clutching Punz to his chest like a lifeline. “I don’t know what’s wrong with him.” 

Techno blinked. 

He moved quickly, grabbing Punz from the shivering man and laying him across the table. He threw spare blankets at Sam and told Phil to get him dry clothes. 

Now, closely, he could see just how poorly Punz was doing. His face and neck were covered in scars, one standing out to him the most. Not the one that went diagonally across his eye (although, that was up there), no. there was a long, thin scar just above where his vocal chords would be, undoubtedly from a knife. 

He shook his head, instead leaning closer to listen for breaths. The blonde was breathing shallowly, much less than he should be. 

“How long has he been like this?” He asked Sam, eyes unmoving. He brushed the blonde hair out of Punz’s eyes. 

“I don’t know. When I woke up he wasn’t breathing. I tried reviving him and it worked, but he coughed up this… this seawater. It was  _ black.”  _

He turned to meet Sam’s eyes and noticed the poor state he was in as well. His eyes drooped and his skin was pale, clammy. Shivers travelled across his body. 

“I’m making you tea,” Techno muttered, brushing hair out of his own face. “Don’t move.” 

***

“...And he just… melted the walls. Of the prison you spent months reinforcing. The one that’s impossible to get out of.” 

Sam nodded meekly, taking a sip of the tea and relishing in the way the warmth spread through his body. “I don’t know how he did it, or who he is, or how he knocked us both out so quickly. All I know is he looked  _ exactly _ like Dream. He was just wearing black.” 

Phil put a comforting arm around his shoulders and he leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. “He was so terrified when he woke up. I’ve never seen him like that, not since we were all kids, and we were woken up by a zombie raid.”

Beside him, Techno hunched over a pillow, head in his hands. 

“He’ll be okay, Sam,” Phil said softly, the words hollow and meaningless. He wasn’t okay. 

“I don’t even know where Dream is,” Sam whispered brokenly. “I didn’t bother to check the prison. God, I’m such a horrible brother.” 

Phil and Techno shared a glance over his head. Techno raised an eyebrow and tilted his gaze. Phil shook his head. 

A rustling caught their attention. 

Punz shifted in the makeshift bed they made him, sniffling. His eyes were squeezed shut, painfully. Sam leaped up and his hands twitched, wanting to gather the younger in a hug. His eyes opened slowly, wildly searching the room. Sam sighed out in relief. 

He locked his gaze with Sam and shot up, pressing a blade to the man’s neck. It drew blood and sent Phil and Techno scrambling. 

It was then that Sam finally realized, following the way that Punz’s eyes stalked around the room in fear. 

They were purple. 

Techno was quick to act, grabbing his crossbow and shooting the blade out of Punz’s hands. His purple gaze met red and he scrambled out of the bed, pushing himself to the nearest wall. He slowly slid down the wall, curling in on himself. Tremors shook through his body.

Sam clutched at his neck and breathed heavily. 

“Punz, it’s alright, we’re not gonna hurt you,” Phil said softly, taking a tentative step forward. He stopped when Punz’s whole body flinched. Techno lowered his crossbow. 

Purple eyes glanced up, glimmering with unshed tears. 

“Who the hell are you people?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhh. oops
> 
> thank you so much for the support that’s been shown on this work, i really didn’t expect many people to read it. you guys are very pogchamp. 
> 
> for those who might be curious, i’m on tumblr (@palmsxieri) although it’s mainly a hockey blog. 
> 
> feedback is appreciated :D


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fundy remembers. 
> 
> _(Green, white, purple, black-)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah
> 
> tw: manipulation, toxic relationships, slight gaslighting, and a small heated scene if you catch my drift

The world around him spun as he struggled to keep his head upright, legs on fire and lungs heaving. Hues of purple clouded his vision as someone moved in front of him. Soot dusted the arms of the chair he was sat in. The air was thick and smelled of burning flesh. 

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” the figure said lowly, crouching to his level. They gently pressed a palm to his forehead, pressing the wrinkles there. “I was worried for a moment. Thought you weren’t going to open your eyes.” 

Fundy squeezed his eyes shut. As far as he could tell, his heart was in the right place, no longer taunting him from the ground, and there were no gaping wounds on his body. There were no freezing cold presences to the side, no condescending fatherly figure to belittle him until he felt worthless. No one to press an arrow to his temple and beat him until he complied with an order. No one to scream at him, lock him in a tight space to force him to talk. No one to hold him at night, to stare at the stars and run gentle hands through his hair. Just someone who he didn’t know, but someone who he knew so much about. It was unsettling. 

His hands hung uselessly behind him, tied in thick rope against the wooden support of his chair. His head slumped forward once more, unable to support itself. His tail drooped to the floor, motionless. 

“What’s wrong, vixen?” they asked softly, and his ears perked up. Something fluttered in his chest.

The only person who called him that was Dream, when they were closer, before he grew clipped and distant. He tensed as his eyes stung, carefully trained on the cracked floor below him. A few stray tears fell, staining the ground. The figure cooed, swiping a finger under his eyes. 

“Don’t cry, sweetheart,” they whispered, and finally, he let his gaze fall upon purple eyes. Something about them drew him in. He didn’t want to let go. “Let’s get these off of you, yeah?” 

He flinched lightly when they sliced through the rope with their claws. “It’s alright,” they said, gently holding his wrists, careful to avoid cutting them. They pressed a kiss to the inside of each one, and for the first time in a long time, he felt warmth. “Better, yeah?” 

He nodded hesitantly, picking up his head. His body protested, screamed at him to run, to kick, to do  _ something,  _ but he sat limp in the chair as the figure tossed the rope to the side. Their eyes bore holes in his skull, but he couldn’t find it within himself to look away. 

“Where am I?” he managed to croak out, throat burning with disuse. The purple hues on the walls glowed softly. 

“You don’t need to worry about that, vixen,” they smiled, sharp teeth on display. They cupped a hand around his cheek. He shivered as a claw traced its way down his jawline and rested on his lips. “We’re safe here. Safe from those people who tried to hurt you.” 

“Who?” Fundy slurred, feeling himself getting lost in those purple eyes. “I fell asleep in that bush.” 

“Everyone, vixen. Nobody respects you; even a blind man could see it.” 

He leaned into the touch of their hand, craving that warmth he felt moments ago. Their other hand brushed messy hair out of his face, letting it rest in soft curls. More tears escaped his eyes, and purple ones narrowed in concern. 

They shushed him softly, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I’m going to keep you safe vixen, don’t you forget that, okay?” 

He nodded hesitantly, movement slow and shaky. He studied their face, riddled with various burns and scars, puzzled at the familiarity. “What’s your name?” 

They frowned and pulled their hands back, and he whined, missing the warmth they brought. “You don’t remember?” 

He felt a pang of guilt as sadness swept across their face, desperately searching his mind for something to spark his memory. The only thing he could think of were vibrant green eyes, tousled blonde hair, a tea-kettle laugh, someone who was like a dream -  _ Dream, Dream, Dream- _

_ (Who’s Dream?) _

“It’s okay, you did hit your head pretty hard,” they sighed, standing up. “It’s me, Nightmare. We’re engaged, vixen.” 

Flashes of green and white filled his mind, plagued with hints of purple and black. He saw a beautiful chapel and clear blue skies. White flowers dripping with blood and scratched sterling silver, cobblestone paths and soft moss. A purple liquid flowing through the cracks, pooling at his feet. A white mask dripping black, staining a once beautiful white dress. Bodies strewn left and right, blood pooled across the floor. Thunder. 

He saw a burning flag, a cloud of smoke and a beast with the power to kill thousands. 

He saw the person he’d call his standing amidst the chaos, clad in black and armed to the teeth. 

Brown eyes met purple, and for the first time, he felt whole. 

His vision cleared and his chest loosened, and he lost himself in that stare once more. 

Nightmare smiled as purple seeped into brown, swirling in power. Their claw traced down his cheek, a powerful gesture, yet it flared in his stomach, burning. 

He surged up and gripped the back of their neck, pulling them into a passionate kiss. He held his breath as sparks burst inside him, warmth pooling in his gut. He felt them lightly breathe out against his upper lip, and he grinned into the kiss. Sharp teeth dug into his bottom lip and he melted in their grip. They ran their tongue over the cut, making him gasp. 

He pulled back, lungs on fire. Sucking in breaths of air, he tongued at the new incision, a metallic tang filling his mouth. A sharp-toothed grin tore its way across his face, and for the first time, purple met purple. 

“Welcome back, vixen.” 

***

_ Hello?  _

_ Can anybody hear me?  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i ran with it. 
> 
> feedback is appreciated :D
> 
> also, if you want to reach out, my twitter is @honksupreme!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> regret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> introducing new characters... 
> 
> tw: violence and injury

_ Flashes of purple and black flew past him as he ran. From what, he had no idea. Every time he tried to turn around his body would correct him with painful force, shifting his bones and muscles so that he could only keep forward. A white-hot pain tore through his shoulder and he screamed, wanting nothing more than to crumble on the floor and admit his defeat. His body continued on despite his protests, sprinting down an endless dirt path.  _

_ On a quick glance, he managed to get a clearer view of their face, riddled with scars and blood. Sharp canines that could tear someone’s throat with so much as a blink of an eye. Claws that moments ago tore through the ligaments in his shoulder. Eyes sharp as knives, slicing through his brain. A familiarity that struck him with such force that he’s sure he’d have fallen if it weren’t for the phantom limbs carrying him forward.  _

_ The path opened to a clearing and his body slowed to a stop, leaving him gasping for air. The wound on his back dripped with blood, glowing with a purple aura. A whimper slipped past his lips, soil upturned from where his shoes dug into the earth. His fingers gripped the ground against the pain, his body crying for help. Their footsteps grew louder and more staggered, echoing in his mind. Pain tore through his midsection and his body went rigid, and at a glance down he could see the tips of black claws peeking through a sea of red. He choked on a breath, lungs failing and arms going limp. They roughly turned him around and brown eyes met purple.  _

_ “Why did you leave me,” they whispered, voice grating and shoving glass in his ears. Red trickled down his neck and claws tore at his chest, tearing easily through flesh and bone. “You left me, George. You left me in the prison to rot. To die. To wither away while the rest of you thrived.”  _

_ He trembled slightly in their tight grip, gaze unwavering. They raised an arm and he squeezed his eyes shut, feeling sharpness slice through his throat. Blood welled in his mouth and filled his lungs as he collapsed at the feet of his attacker, watching as the figure slowly morphed into Dream.  _

_ “Why did you kill me, George?”  _

***

His eyes shot open as a wrangled shout spilled past his lips, white knuckles gripping dark blue sheets. Sweat pooled in his collarbones and dripped down his forehead. His breaths were heavy and labored as he reached blindly for the lump that should be next to him. The opposite side of the bed was cold and he frowned, taking a deep breath. 

He stood shakily once the room stopped spinning and walked silently down the hall, following the faint crackling of a firepit. The back door of his house was slightly ajar, a small draft making him wrap his arms around himself. He pushed the door aside and watched Sapnap, hunched over their pit, staring at the bright flames. 

He sat next to the younger silently, allowing the warmth to seep in his bones and calm him down. He might not have such infatuation with it as the fire spirit did, but he understood. 

“Can’t sleep either,” George said to no one in particular, shutting his eyes against the bright light. He watched as Sapnap’s hands sparked, the fire rising. Tension rolled off of the spirit’s form in waves, taut shoulders and rigid spine. He shifted and looked at George and the older’s heart cracked. His tear marks glowed and steadily dripped lava like a current, fueling the fire below them. The cracks on his arms lit up furiously. 

“Do you think we did the right thing?” Sapnap whispered, voice rough and wobbly from disuse and no doubt from crying. His orange eyes were wide and pleading, staring into George’s soul. “Putting Dream in the prison, I mean. I know he’s done really bad shit but I can’t help but feel guilty.” 

Sapnap’s hands sparked again. He took them into his own, rubbing small circles on the younger’s palms. The pop of the fire filled the silence that neither of them wanted to fill. It was easier to deal with than the pain that coursed through their brains. 

The warm glow of his tear marks pulsed with fresh lava, and the cracks oozed. Careful to avoid getting burned, he pulled Sapnap into a hug, silently wincing when a drop of lava landed on his thigh. The younger melted into it and silently cried, angling his face so that he wouldn’t get hurt. The tears singed fallen leaves on the ground. 

The fire died out, the only glow coming from the man curled in his arms. 

He thought about his nightmare again, about the phantom pain that coursed through his body. Sapnap uncurled himself and wiped the lava under his eyes, sniffling. Smoke clouded the air from the singed leaves and doused fire, making him squint. His own eyes stung - from the smoke, or maybe the raw emotion he felt pooling in his gut, splitting him in two in front of the spirit he swore he’d protect from anything. 

The fire in Sapnap’s eyes dulled, leaving behind a cooled gray color. He stared defeatedly at the failed flame in front of them, sighing. 

“I don’t know, Sap,” George said quietly, casting his gaze downward. “I don’t know.” 

***

_ Where am I?  _

_ It’s really dark in here, can anybody hear me?  _

_ I can’t feel anything or see anything.  _

***

_ Hello?  _

_ Sam?  _

_ Punz?  _

_ Guards?  _

***

_ Hello?  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in case it’s confusing, sapnap is a fire spirit and the tear tracks are permanent. i’ll do a backstory in the future. for a visual, google ‘weeping monk from cursed.’ he’s based off of that character. 
> 
> feedback is appreciated :D


	10. author’s note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> not a chapter, an author’s note!

hey everyone. i want to say that you are very pogchamp for reading this fic. 

few things i wanted to say quickly! maybe i’ll keep this here, maybe i won’t. 

first - thank you so so _so_ much for reading. i genuinely didn’t think that people would read this, so when i saw that it has 8k hits i almost lost my mind. you’re awesome. 

second - i had someone ask if i’d be okay with works or fanart inspired by this. YES! always yes. as long as there’s credit somewhere so i see it, that is so fucking cool. 

last - take care of yourself! you’re real, you’re here, i care about you. drink some water, have a yummy snack if you want, wear your favorite hoodie and snuggle with your favorite blanket. do what you need to do to feel good. :D

oh yeah - listen to roadtrip! very pogchamp.

see ya in the next chapter!

-DJ 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> actual chapter! 
> 
> tw: graphic violence, description of corpses, unsafe medical procedures, amnesia

Chat had told him to aim for the center of Punz’s skull. They chanted for blood and for death. He didn’t listen to them. 

_ Blood,  _ it said,  _ blood. Mark the skull.  _

He sighed and unravelled the thick gauze in his hand, moving toward Sam. The man in question clutched an old rag to his throat, the once white cloth now a deep shade of crimson. Next to him sat Phil with a needle and thread, a cup of salt water and a cleaner rag. He gently removed the towel and heated the needle with the fireplace. 

“This is going to suck,” Phil said plainly, wincing when Sam squeezed his eyes shut. 

The man tensed when the needle broke skin, a small noise of pain slipping past his lips while the thread was pulled through. Techno watched with interest as the thread pulled at the skin, making it settle once the knot caught. He wiped a small trickle of blood that seeped past the wound. 

Next to the group sat Punz, trembling slightly like a leaf in a cool breeze. He had a blanket strewn over his shoulders and a pillow in his lap. His gaze was unfocused and skittish, eyes fluttering every so often. The purple had dulled since the dagger was shot out of his hands, since then cooling to a dusty lilac. The scar stretched across his skin and made Techno wince. 

The pinkette turned to him abruptly, dropping the rag. 

“Do you know where you are, Punz?” He asked sternly, crimson eyes boring into purple ones. He raised a hand to place it on the older’s knee but stopped when the blonde’s whole body flinched. 

His gaze refocused and his eyes darted around the room. Chapped lips opened to speak but nothing came out, throat too dry to coax out words. 

He swallowed a few times. “Sorry,” he said, wincing when his throat grated together. “But, um. Who’s Punz?” 

Phil and Techno shared a glance. The needle stopped moving. 

“That’s… that’s you. Your name is Punz,” Phil said, returning to his stitching. Sam whined. “But that’s alright if you don’t remember. The name’s Phil.” 

Techno sighed and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “We’ve got a big problem if he can’t remember anything. He’s our best shot at knowing what’s wrong with Dream, if anything.” 

“I don’t know the first thing about memory problems,” Phil said quietly, cutting the thread. The wound at Sam’s throat looked terrible, but it would heal, albeit with a nasty scar. “I think we need to call someone for this. Someone more…  _ experienced _ , let’s say, than we are.” 

His stomach clenched. Red eyes met green, pleading. Phil’s gaze was undeterred. And if there was anything Techno knew for sure, it was that when the older had his mind set on something, there was no stopping him.

***

_ Bright white light poured through his eyelids and his body weighed down coarse dirt, skin hot to the touch. Grass fluttered lightly beneath his fingertips. He opened his eyes slowly, squinting against the sunlight. The sky was clearer than it had been for a while. Or at least, that’s what he thought. _

_ He moved to sit up but his body screamed in pain, muscles going rigid and skin tightening. The ground under him cooled and agony seeped in his bones. The taste of blood tainted his mouth and the sun burned his face.  _

_ The sound of rushing water filled his ears and his lungs were on fire. Every breath scorched his throat.  _

_ Voices screamed and shouted at him incoherently, words morphing together and making a noise that would split someone’s skull in half. Squinting against the sun, he gritted his teeth and ignored the protest from his body. Shakily, he was able to sit up, facing the clearing head on.  _

_ Around him lay the discarded bodies of his friends, family, and everyone he cared about. The hole that tore through his stomach told him enough.  _

_ The bodies were badly burned and mutilated. He couldn’t tell who was who, apart from a few individuals. A mixture of blood, sweat and tears ran down his cheeks.  _

_ A sudden movement from a familiar green lump caught his eye and he rushed to the admin, silently crying out in pain at the movement. A cavity in Dream’s chest stared at him, ribs pried open and heart laying to the side, slowly twitching. He watched as the blonde’s lungs struggled to take in air, various cuts leaking blood.  _

_ “Ranboo,” came a whisper, and Dream clutched at his shirt with desperate force. The heart next to him stilled.  _

_ “Save me, Ranboo,” Dream whispered through a mouthful of blood, eyes dulling and breath ceasing.  _

_ Shrieks filled the air and he clasped hands over his ears, crying out in pain. The clear sky fizzed away and was replaced with sharp obsidian, slowly closing in on his figure. Edges dug into his knees and legs, drawing blood into small pools of the rock.  _

_ A sudden warmth on his cheek startled him from the voices, a deadly calm taking over the atmosphere. Purple eyes stared into his own, claws ghosting over his throat.  _

_ “Kill them,” the figure whispered, and he found himself nodding unconsciously, eyes slipping shut.  _

_ Before he succumbed to the warm blanket of darkness, however, he caught glimpse of a dark black cloak and a familiar fox tail. _

_ The darkness enveloped him, and he curled himself in it with a smile gracing his face.  _

***

**_< Ranboo>: _ ** _ :) _

***

_ I don’t know how long I’ve been here, wherever ‘here’ is. It’s dark and thick, almost like tar.  _

_ Maybe.  _

_ I can’t feel anything.  _

_ I tried to open my eyes. I don’t know if I did or not. Nothing changed.  _

_ There are a few particles floating around. I named one of them George, another Sapnap. I think they like me, but they don’t really get close.  _

_ Every so often I’ll see purple. I don’t like it. It makes me uncomfortable.  _

_ I don’t know how long I’ve been here. It’s dark and cold and unforgiving.  _

_ Maybe.  _

_ I can’t feel anything.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)
> 
> sorry for the long delay! i should be back to normal now. 
> 
> thank you for reading! 
> 
> comments are appreciated :D


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warmth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: torture, violence, gagging, implied self harm and abuse, slight amnesia

Thick, red air clouded his vision, the familiar heat of his home creating a warmth that he desperately longed for, one that ghosted him while he was forced to deal with his tragic nightmares on his own. The Nether had proven itself to him a long time ago, before Dream, before L’manberg, before anything actually mattered. Before every step he took was like dumping ice cold water on his head, singing the lava that flowed freely from his face and scalding his arms. 

The Nether had nurtured him and cared when no one else would. Small scenes of disappointed faces and shattered glasses clouded his vision, overruling the darkness that plagued the corners of his mind. Flames sparked at his fingertips. The rough ground below him kept him rooted, digging into the backs of his legs as he felt the warmth spread through his body. The quiet mumble of striders chorused around him. 

_ Shards of glass dug into his limbs, burning and tearing at muscle and skin. _

His eyes fluttered shut to the comforting flow of lava. The ground beneath him grew pliant and soft. 

_ Cold steel carved under his eyes, skinning the shape of his tear tracks. The blurred out faces of his parents tilted disapprovingly at him, blood dripping down his face, salty tears burning the fresh wounds.  _

_ Empty promises of tearless nights, white lies regarding parental love and hollow threats of punishment.  _

_ Thoughts of being a burden, a deadweight in something that once could have been happy, that once could have thrived.  _

_ Deep purple bruises and small cuts that littered his thighs and arms. Black eyes and hand prints that circled his throat.  _

The warmth died. It always does. 

***

He found himself standing in front of Pandora’s Vault, staring at damage that only  _ he  _ was capable of. He watched as water bubbled against stone that was hot even to him, the smell of burnt flesh filling the air. The atmosphere was thick with smoke, soot dusting his fingertips when he reached out to see if this was real. The water lapped at his feet, coaxing him to burn himself and crack even more. 

He pulled out a single pearl from his inventory and threw it toward the prison. It landed just short of the gaping wall and he landed in the water with a pained gasp. It solidified the cracks in his arms and chiseled at the tears, making him stiffen. The skin around his wounds bubbled at the water contact, drawing a more horrid outline of burnt flesh littering his body. He pulled himself out of the water painfully, collapsing to the ground with shaky breaths. The hazy air clouded his vision as he clawed desperately at the obsidian walls, trying to grab purchase on  _ anything _ to distract him from the burns. The sharp rock tore through the skin on his palms, but it served as something to focus on, something to ground him. 

Finally,  _ finally,  _ he pulled himself to his knees, blood dripping to the hard ground beneath him, black spots danced at the corners of his eyes and the world tilted on its axis, and he collapsed once more. 

_ “Sapnap!”  _

He felt rough hands grab at his shoulders and shake, hard. He whimpered out in protest, swallowing thickly against blood and smoke. Familiar callouses cupped his cheeks shakily, mindful of the cooled lava pooled in his eyes. One gripped his jaw gently and pried open his mouth. He sputtered when a cool liquid pooled at the base of his throat, tasting of cinnamon and cloves. The other hand massaged at his throat and he swallowed the liquid, wincing as it burned on the way down. 

The solidified rock on his body slowly melted away, lava pouring at full speed. 

He opened his eyes slowly, dull grey meeting glossy brown. 

“George?” 

The brunette in question threw his arms around the younger and sobbed, uncaring of the burned holes in his shirt. 

He tugged himself away instinctively, curling his arms around his figure. He flinched when George recoiled. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Sapnap whispered, casting his gaze at the ground. 

George frowned, instead grabbing his hand and tugging him to his feet. He swayed unsteadily, grasping the obsidian and wincing when it drew blood. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” George hissed out, eyes boring into his skull. “I woke up and you were gone. What the hell were you thinking?” 

He closed his eyes to recount the events from when he fell asleep, but found that he couldn’t. 

“I… I don’t know,” he answered truthfully, running a hand through his hair and tugging at the ends. “I don’t remember waking up.”

His mouth went dry at the waft of rot that passed through the air, cringing when George gagged next to him. 

“That’s not natural,” he whispered, wincing when George spat into the water. 

“No shit,” George muttered back, wiping his mouth. “Come on, we can’t just leave without checking it out.” 

He followed the older into the cell, silently gagging when the smell grew stronger. Darkness overtook both of them. Something in George’s mind begged him to leave this place and never come back. The two stopped as the air grew thicker, almost unbreathable. 

The temperature around him skyrocketed and he looked to Sapnap in confusion. The younger’s eyes were ablaze, fingertips sparking and lava falling faster than he’s seen in a long time. He followed the orange gaze and froze when he saw a skeleton hunched in the corner of the prison. A black turtleneck hung from the bones, torn and battered in the area where the corpse’s chest would’ve been. Wet tears filled his eyes, threatening to spill over. 

The lone torch in the room disintegrated from the heat, leaving the two in the darkness. The sparks from Sapnap’s hands flickered some light into the cell, but not much. The fire spirit inched closer to the bones, going rigid when he crouched next to it.

The first tear dropped and a scream rang out when Sapnap pulled out a torn piece of lime green fabric. 

***

_ I saw fire today. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha oops. 
> 
> in case it’s confusing as to why dream’s body deteriorated already... how do you think nightmare looks so much like him? :)
> 
> feedback is appreciated :D


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tension rises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my dumb ass accidentally deleted the chapter so here we go again. 
> 
> no tw’s apply to this chapter.

The moon was at its peak when he first heard voices call for him. 

The house was still and quiet, wind blowing and creaking the wood. A draft of cold air settled deep in his bones, rooting itself and making him stiffen. Whispers settled behind his ears and tickled at the skin there, sending shivers down his spine. 

He stood up on unfamiliar legs, seemingly moving without control. The soft sound of snores trailed down the hall as footsteps ghosted across the old wood floor, legs carrying him into the main room. Trails of purple smoke escaped his fingertips, clouding the cold air and mixing with the condensation from his breath. 

The door opened slowly and he took a tentative step out, snow parting from his bare feet. The cold ground felt comforting below him. The snow dissolved with every step he took, melting a path that seemingly didn’t end, or at least ended father than he could see. Turning to face the house again, the snow behind him fell again, covering his footprints. He knelt down and ran his fingers through the snow, leaving purple streaks behind. 

The voices whispered to him once more, tickling his temples. His body walked with ghosting steps through the path, snow covering his tracks. 

***

He found himself standing by the community house ruins, snow dusting his shoulders and dampening his hair. The voices died down to soft murmurs, enveloping him in a soft blanket of warmth. The moon cast shadows over the littered remains of crafting tables, creating a hauntingly beautiful image of what once was. 

Footsteps shuffled down the path behind him but he paid no mind, watching stray ash dust across the ground with the wind. Leaves bristled and twigs snapped, all background noise as his focus remained on the ruins in front of him. 

A clawed hand clasped his shoulder gently and he went lax under the touch, leaning into the comforting gesture. It brought warmth that spread through his body, calming the freezing cold that had cracked through his bones. Purple eyes drooped and he felt his legs give out, falling into strong arms. He glanced into eyes that mirrored his own and watched as they glowed softly, staring into his soul, void of any emotion. A hand carded through his hair, flicking away the melted snow that rested in it. Sadness twisted in his gut as warm eyes were covered with a black mask. 

“Shh, it’s okay,” a familiar voice whispered next to him, swiping a hand under his cheek. He pushed his head into soft fur and watched a tail whip around in the corner of his eye. The world around him slowed as he sunk deeper into the warmth that surrounded him, feeling nothing but safe in their arms. 

The hand carding through his hair stilled and he felt claws ghost down his neck, making him shiver. 

“Sleep, Punz,” they said softly, trailing back to his face. A claw rested on his lips, barely touching but weight grounding all the same. “You’ve got a long day ahead.” 

Something in the back of his mind screamed and kicked, begging to be set free and wanting nothing more than to run away and never look back. He ignored it in favor of welcoming fitful slumber with open arms, heart slowing as the world went dark. 

***

“What the fuck do you mean, you lost him?!” 

Sam curled his fists in his hair, tugging at the loose strands. The burn of his scalp was grounding, offering a distraction from the guilt wrenching in his gut. 

“There’s no trace of where he went,” Phil said quietly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It’s like he was never here. We need to find him, especially if he doesn’t remember anything.” 

“He can’t have gotten far,” Techno mumbled from his place at the small corner table, pinching the bridge of his nose. The glasses atop his head fell to the wood with a clatter. 

Tears trailed their way down Sam’s cheeks, falling haphazardly onto the floor. His harsh breathing filled the cold air, floor creaking as it struggled to abstain from collapsing. The snow outside only continued to fall, seeping into cracks and making the walls swell. The creak of the foundation filled a silence no one else wanted to break, tension wafting through the air. 

Techno scratched a claw on the surface beneath his elbows, a white line trailing his movement.  _ Symbolic _ , he thought, studying the mark. Something that had value was rendered worthless with a flick of his wrist. He blew out a short breath, eyes trained on the scratch. 

“We can’t stay here,” Phil whispered quietly, standing slowly. “We have to go back to the mainland. That’s our only shot at finding Punz, and figuring out if Dream’s okay while we’re at it.” 

Sam nodded from his place in the corner of the room, furiously wiping at his eyes. 

“I don’t think I’ll be much help,” Techno mumbled, picking himself up off the table. “There’s a warrant for my head. No way you’ll be able to pass through there if I’m with you.” 

“They respect me,” Sam countered, gaze hard. “If they try anything, they’ll be trying it on me too.” 

The pinkette raised an eyebrow at that. He slowly stood from his chair and sized the man up, gazing into sharp eyes. 

“Besides,” he continued, not once breaking his stare. He placed a bottle of clear liquid on the table roughly. “Invis pots. They won’t see it coming.” 

A sharp knock on the door stunned them out of their conversation, tension directed at the unknown presence that stood outside. The three shared a look. 

“Well don’t all jump at once,” Phil grumbled, dusting himself off and swinging open the door. 

There, on the other side stood Tubbo, suit torn and blood running down one of his cheeks. Phil ushered him in and cupped his face, inspecting the cut on his face. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Tubbo snapped, swatting Phil’s hands away. He straightened out his suit and wiped the trickle of blood that fell again, wiping it on his pants. 

“How the hell did you find this place,” Techno grunted, foregoing any greeting he might have once said to the young president. 

“I have my ways,” Tubbo snarked back, faltering when the pinkette’s eyes narrowed. “Fine, fine. Tommy told me the coordinates.” 

“Of fucking course he did,” Techno muttered under his breath. His hands made their way back to his temples, Chat blaring in his head. 

Sam remained quiet, jaw locked tight. Phil turned back to Tubbo gently, prodding at the cut on his cheek. 

“Skeleton,” the younger huffed, annoyed. “It’s fine, just tore my jacket a little.” 

“Why are you here, Tubbo?” Sam questioned, voice hushed and closed off. He winced at the tone. 

“Fundy’s missing,” the president said, terse. “No one’s seen him this week. Quackity’s gone off the rails, too, ever since you and your mercenary fled like  _ cowards _ on the new year. What  _ was  _ that about, anyway?” 

“None of your damn business,” Sam retorted, looming over Tubbo. “My  _ mercenary _ is also missing now, thank you, so if you please, the door is right behind you.” 

“Wait, wait,” Phil blurted out, grabbing Tubbo’s arm roughly when the younger made to reach for the door. “Can we all just talk like normal people for once, please. We both have missing people, let’s work to find them together. They both disappeared without a trace, yeah? That’s got to be something.” 

“That doesn’t help much,” Tubbo said, wrenching his arm from Phil’s grip. “Fundy’s alliances remain with L’Manberg; Punz allied himself with Dream. Neither of them had a person they’re both familiar enough with.” 

“That’s not necessarily true,” Sam countered. “Punz and Sapnap are like brothers, they have been for as long as I can remember. And although I wasn’t very present, I remember Fundy slaved over gathering as much dirt on Sapnap when he accidentally killed the fox. If we ask him, we might get something that’ll help us find them both.” 

“Yes, but nobody’s seen or heard from Sapnap in months, he went radio silent,” Tubbo spat out, raising his voice. “Or did you forget about that in becoming a heartless warden?” 

“Like you care any more than the rest of us,” Sam growled out. “You turned into a stuck up dictator, Tubbo. Your Schlatt is showing.” 

It was a low blow, he knew that, but he said it anyway. The thick fog of anger radiated off of Tubbo in waves. Techno shifted uncomfortably, willing Chat to shut up and ease his headache. 

A unanimous ping on each of their communicators cut through the silence like a knife through butter, making all of them freeze. 

***

**_GeorgeNotFound burned to death whilst trying to escape Sapnap_ **

**_Sapnap fell out of the world_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don’t worry, respawn mechanics are enabled... for now. 
> 
> feedback is appreciated :D


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> old habits die hard, or whatever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: depictions of violence

Gentle hands carded through knotted blonde hair and soft breaths filled the air, masked only by his loss of thought. Fundy’s tail lightly tapped against the fabric of his pants in a comforting manner. Nightmare paced the dark room, glowing book in hand, claws scraping over the obsidian. Their eyes scanned the book carefully, lost in thought. He tried to avoid looking at the obvious blood stains on the walls.

Above him, Fundy clicked his jaw shut. “What exactly are you doing?” 

Nightmare shut the book roughly, making him jump. Fundy’s hands pressed over his ribs. 

“If this isn’t planned perfectly, the results could be catastrophic,” they hissed out. “We can’t afford for this to go wrong.” 

Fundy gently moved him to the side and stood, putting two hands between Nightmare’s shoulder blades. He pursed his lips and placed a kiss to the corner of their mouth. A frown worked its way onto his face.

“It’ll work,” the fox said quietly. His hands moved to their chest, not pushing, just resting. “Just trust in that.” 

“Trust isn’t enough,” Nightmare retorted, pushing Fundy off of them, blind to the hurt look on the fox’s face. “I’ve waited too long for this opportunity. If it doesn’t work now, it’ll never work again.” 

He ignored the twist in his gut at seeing Fundy’s tail drooped so low and ears pinned back. Instead, he stood and studied the ancient writing that adorned the walls. 

“What does all of this mean, anyway?” he asked, flinching back when the characters flashed. 

Nightmare turned to him quickly, grabbing their dagger and slicing across his palm without warning. He couldn’t help the startled scream that left his throat as blood dripped down his arm, falling onto the white words. He fell backward into Fundy, who grabbed him and wrapped a piece of fabric onto the wound. 

“What the hell was that,” Fundy growled, sounding more pissed than he’d ever heard.

“Sorry,” Nightmare said, voice light. “Today, my dear, we’re performing a resurrection. And, well. Can’t really do that without building blocks, can we?” 

Punz watched as droplets of blood fell from the dagger onto the floor, sending light rippling across the room. The two covered their ears as Nightmare began chanting, voice not unlike his painful laugh. The noise only grew as the chants grew louder and more incoherent, words pulsing with life. The blood droplet grew larger with time. A flash of white had him shielding his eyes, palm stinging. 

A deadly calm followed, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d say he was dead. 

Opening his eyes slowly, he watched as Fundy slowly pulled himself off the ground. He turned and was met with Nightmare’s bone-chilling smile. 

He followed their gaze and was greeted by a brown hair and a torn, bloody trench coat.

* * *

Sapnap shot out of his bed screaming and shouting, trying desperately to claw the hands off of him. The world was too bright and his breath was too short, sounds mixing together and bouncing off the walls in his mind. The hands grabbed his wrists and he flinched violently, waiting for a hit that never came. 

His breathing slowed gradually but he kept his eyes screwed shut, still waiting for the disappointed scolding he was so used to. He waited desperately, almost longing for the burning feeling of an old bruise being pushed, the white-hot burn of glass being dragged across a fresh scar.

“Sapnap? Are you with me?” 

His eyes flew open, orange meeting red. 

“Techno?” He asked in disbelief, the grip on his wrists burning. He met the concerned gazes of others - Phil, Tubbo, Sam, and George. 

_George._

The color drained from his eyes as he met the older’s, eyes quickly tearing up at the memory of his screams, watching as the flesh on his body burned away until he was nothing but a skeleton. Being forced to stare at bone as he suffocated in his own flame. Staring into eye sockets that once held so much life, a corpse that joined the other. 

“George,” he choked out, unable to tear himself from Techno’s grip. “George, I’m so sorry.” 

The older reached for him and he flinched again, wrenching himself from the pinkette’s grip. George pulled his hand back and crouched down. 

The air grew tense as the two Arctic dwellers shared a knowing look filled with concern and pity.

“Sapnap, is it alright if I touch you?” 

He nodded, barely visible but enough to confirm. George brought a hand up and cupped his cheek, eyes filled with concern. 

“Sapnap,” he said lowly, thumb stroking over his jawline. “What happened? Who did this to you?” 

He shifted uncomfortably under their gazes. “I didn’t always have tear tracks.” 

“Elaborate,” Techno mumbled, earning a smack from Phil. 

“What he _means_ is,” Phil hissed, glaring at the pinkette. “We would appreciate if you explained that, but only if you’re comfortable.” 

Tubbo sat next to him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, the weight grounding. 

“I was a crier,” he started shakily. “My parents hated it, especially when I was really young. They thought words would stop it at first, but that only made it worse. Physical marks were the next try, but that’s how they found out I had fire powers and I burnt down the house after one particularly bad night. They started using old bottles. One lodged itself in my arm and I had to pull it out myself and I burnt the floor. They finally found a way to stop the crying.” 

George cocked his head, asking him to continue. 

“I can’t touch water. They carved out under my eyes and waited for the tears to solidify. Their fucking sadistic ways forced me to keep my emotions internal until I burst.” 

Phil crouched in front of him, placing a hand on his knee. “Where are they now?” 

He shook as tears fell, burning small holes in his pants. 

“I killed them.” 

The silence that followed was deafening. _They hated him, they were going to run a sword through his heart and send him where he truly belonged -_

“Well,” Tubbo said quietly. “Thank fuck for that.” 

Murmurs of agreement rose from around him. 

“What?” Sapnap muttered, disbelief clear on his face. “I just told you that I murdered my parents in cold blood, and you say that?” 

“They had it coming,” Techno said simply, blowing a strand of hair out of his face. “Besides. As much as I love a heart to heart, we have things to do. Punz and Fundy are both missing, gone without a trace. There’s no evidence of them even being here in the first place.” 

A puzzled look masked his face, color slowly seeping into his eyes. 

“You’re the only one who has ties to both of them,” Sam continued, sending a subtle glare toward Tubbo. The hand on his shoulder tensed. “We were hoping the two of you would be able to help us out.” 

“Maybe this has something to do with what’s going on with Dream,” George said to him. “It’s all got to be related somehow.” 

“Wait, what do you mean, ‘what’s going on with Dream?’” 

“We saw what happened to the prison,” Sapnap said, eyes now fully orange. “I’m the only one who’s capable of that, and I haven’t been in the mainland in _months._ He’s not there anymore.” 

And, if he chose to leave the pile of bones out of the story, that stayed between him and George. 

“This all has to be related,” Phil mumbled, pressing the bridge of his nose. 

The group startled as the ground started shaking and a loud bang sounded out, jostling the whole house. 

“What the fuck was that?” George exclaimed, now sat flat on the ground.

“Whatever it was, it can’t be good,” Tubbo whispered, eyes filled with worry. 

* * *

In the distance, a former martyr was startled from his slumber, power flowing through his veins. 

* * *

**_WilburSoot has joined the game_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah. 
> 
> i finally figured out how to use goddamn page breaks. 
> 
> feedback is appreciated :D
> 
> i’m using this fic as clout. you should go check out the fic i just posted.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> not a chapter but yet another author’s note.

hello hello! i apologize for putting this here and not having an actual chapter. i’m shooting for the next update to be this week but we’ll see how that goes. 

anyways. 

i’m here because i made a [twitter](twitter.com/palmsxieri) account so that i can meet new people and tweet about writing without being worried of who will see it and such. 

(if that link doesn’t work: @palmsxieri on twitter!)

i’m also on tumblr with the same username but i don’t go on there a lot and it’s mainly hockey on that blog anyway. 

i’ll delete this when the next chapter comes out. 

finally, i wanted to say thank you for the support that i’ve gotten on this fic because - holy SHIT it’s insane. i started this as a sad oneshot and now i’m here. 

for all of you reading this, i love you and i care about you, enjoy yourself. <3


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